Now in these series, I’ll show you why this bond is both holy and wicked.

In late June, 2013, I received an anonymous call. They were a software house who needed someone to serve as the contact person with their American client(s).

They had found my resume and contact details through Rozee.pk, an online job search site.

The timings of that job were from 7pm till 3am.

I wrote an email to my brother Hamid in Saudi Arabia asking him to help me buy a car as there was no public transport after 9pm.

The reply came from my God-ordained wife and it came harsh & swift.

She called me her “rude, disobedient husband” and withheld food from me.

She told me Hamid had sent no money in June and accused me of never earning any money, hence, she had no food for me.

She pulled the curtain of my door-less room, “locking” me in.

I was surprised & puzzled by her confusing statements and lies.

Having no access to money, I lied down silently in my room.

After a couple days, she showed me a statement of account with Rs13,500 in it — enough for all our expenses for a month.

She had at least nine more accounts.

“Why then she has no food for me? And why not give me a little money to join the company and earn more money?” I wondered because she made no sense.

After a few more days, she let me overhear her telling someone in frustration, “He doesn’t even die!”

I was at a loss to understand why she wanted me dead.

I tried to figure her out for some 30 days without success.

If you play tricks on me, I won’t figure it out and that’ll frustrate you.

After 30 days, I ran out of water and poured some drinkable water in my bottle but she moved all the bottles away.

I then decided to find some place else.

I put some clothes in a plastic bag, sold back a medicine for Rs35 and bought a bus ticket to downtown for Rs20.

I had worked in Darul Ishaat, an Islamic publishing house near Urdu Bazaar stop and there’s a restaurant there called Sabri Nihari who give their leftovers free to homeless tramps & addicts.

After 30 days without food, I tasted some leftovers and thanked God.

It was rotten food that poisoned me.

I went to nearby Civil Hospital and managed to see a physician in ER.

The free medicines solved my problem while the blood count report came clean.

I slept on the pavement because Darul Ishaat asked me to join them after Islamic Eid festivals, some 12 days later.

I went to the Civil Hospital next day also and annoyed the physician who threatened not to give me anymore medicines if I continued eating rotten food.

Left with no other options, I told God I was going to return home and ride the bus.

If the conductor complained, I’d disembark and return to downtown.

But he accepted Rs15 and didn’t complain, quite unusual.

When I knocked the door of my apartment, my wife opened and gave up her tricks and told me she just wanted me not to search for jobs in Pakistan and to go to Saudi Arabia as agreed with Hamid in December 2012!

I told her I never had any problems.

According to my wife’s wish, I then asked Hamid to send me Rs500,000 to buy an immigrant visa to Saudi Arabia.

I had no bank account so he used to send all money to my wife’s account.

But my wife won’t trust me and accused me of conspiring to humiliate her once in Saudi Arabia.

Again, if you play tricks with me, I won’t understand your implied message and frustrate you.

I wrote to Hamid about her delusions of paranoid but he rubbished them as immature complaints.

I asked him to send me Rs35,000 because my wife had again withheld food and money from me.

My wife stole my ID card so that I won’t be able to receive money from my brother.

When I asked her to return back my stolen ID, she also stole the rest of my documents, degrees and certificates and ran to her parents’.

I then received an email from Saima, my conditional wife, gently chastising me for picking unnecessary fights and told me about her efforts to put off that fire.

I told her the story of my class fellows and informed her how making her father angry was THE solution because if he failed to call me to the wedding, I won’t need to fulfil the Condition and it’ll be his fault, not mine.

I told the same to my elder sister and it made her laugh and roll.

We then waited anxiously for the clock to tick 00:00am, September 1, 2001.

As the clock finally ticked, I cut the cake in Karachi while Saima celebrated 1000 miles away in Rawalpindi.

My uncle tried to rubbish all my claims but when I and Saima threatened to resort to law (court marriage), he finally gave in.

Every knee shall bow to Jesus. Wasn’t that written 2000 years ago?

Even though my uncle lost the war & the Condition, I still brought my elder sister and my younger brother’s wife to the wedding party.

To make it interesting and funny, God made us arrive late at the airport and we were asked to enter the plane from its rare!

The wedding was quite simple and was held on September 28, 2001 according to my elder sister’s wish.

Until this writing, she doesn’t know I had found my soulmate, Monia, on the August 28, 1996.

But I didn’t marry my soulmate.

I married a strange girl instead.

That story has run parallel on this blog with the title Finding My Soulmate.

But doesn’t Jesus call marrying a strange flesh “fornication” in the Gospel?

Why had He helped me commit a fornication?

I call Him Enigma and a TNT for The Brain for a reason.

In the new series, I’ll tell you some secrets that’ll blow your mind off.

For the time being, I’ve proved my wicked marriage was from-God, not a man-made bond.

In the next series, I’ll prove it was a wicked promise of God.

This blog post is dedicated to Anna, one of my best readers & a true friend.

After a while, she put her hand in my pants to see if it was still erect.

It was.

For few days, she diligently kept checking at random times and every time, it was erect. It had been that way since about 12 years and all my brothers, sisters, parents and even visitors knew about it because I’m a careless guy.

Finally, she confirmed it was not my fault that I slept with Latifa and she no longer worried about my freaky penis.

She found it amusing, instead.

When Omar first brought Monia to me, he made it a surprise.

When Monia returned from the wedding, she, too, thought of surprising me.

Omar took me to buy some grocery. He then asked me to wait to see if Monia had returned from the wedding.

She had not and we carried the grocery to the apartment.

When we entered the apartment, I found Najat there. I asked her about Monia.

“She didn’t come tonight,” said she.

I couldn’t believe she could not come to meet me.

I looked everywhere but found her not. Then I remembered the drawing room, which was empty and was never used and… “peek-a-boo!” she jumped on me and we kissed.

She then looked at my changed looks.

“Is it for me?” she wondered at my quick weight loss and shaved beard.

“Yes”.

She gave me a strange kiss which was even sweeter than any before.

“How did you do that?” I asked in surprise.

She showed me her little tongue.

“But Latifa also used to do that and she didn’t taste so sweet??” I made another complaint.

“I got clean breath” was her cryptic answer.

I half-believed because of my penis that had bled all the time I toured Europe.

But Monia was very hygienic. Still, I envied her because it was not the first time she had surprised me with her knowledge of Principles of Intimacy.

I then wrote her a love letter because by this time, I knew I was in love with her.

God then asked me to give all the gifts I had bought in Europe to Monia.

Omar had asked me to buy a pair of Addidas shoes from Paris but I found the shops closed and I gave him a Yashica camera instead.

Still, he felt jealous.

He had a secret reason to dislike Monia.

When my vacations finished and we boarded the train to Casablanca, we had two empty seats in our first class compartment.

A beautiful young damsel came and asked us if she could join us and I let her in.

She started a conversation with me, showing interest.

Then came another lady in her late 30s. She was in bad mood.

She told me she was in Fes to divorce her husband.

I didn’t find those news interesting, either, and the young damsel restarted her talk.

This pissed off the lady and they started arguing. The lady asked me a question that I didn’t understand and I asked Omar for help.

This is how God completed my conditional marriage: He put me in troubles for my rivals to capitalize on.

On a beautiful day of June 2001, I opened Koran and read chapter 61. The last verse shocked me because for the first time I realized it was asking us — the Muslims — to be Christians as the disciples also were.

In fact, we were taught in school that all the prophets had come to preach Islam but their followers corrupted their books and Koran was the only book left intact because God guaranteed its integrity.

So basically I did nothing.

I just informed all my relatives about my adoption and acceptance of Christianity.

That’s all.

I remained as devout a Muslim as ever.

After a while, I received a call from Saima asking me to write to her father, uncle Irshad.

I had no idea it had to do with my Christianity and faith. So I just sent him some news, other blah and assured him of my brothers’ participation in the wedding ceremony.

On June 19, I received his reply that was very subtle, discussing several issues, rebuking me for fighting Abid, blaming me for getting him fired from NRL, etc. but it contained a suspicious statement buried deep at the end of the email that said “… and I welcome a good Muslim”.

I found that email very disrespectful, asking me to renounce my faith.

I decided to wait a couple of days to cool off and not judge the email in anger.

But when I read that email again, it indeed was disrespectful.

I then wrote a very harsh reply and scolded my uncle for acting like Nimrod.

That humiliation drove him mad at me. He called my elder sister in Jeddah but she refused to help him and blamed him for fighting with her brother.

He told her there was no way he was going to marry me to any girl; someone (God) had to apologise.

She refused to apologize.

He told her it was the end of the marriage. Game over.

When my brothers and sisters started arriving Pakistan for their annual vacations in July, my elder sister offered to marry me to some other girl “since Saima didn’t love me.”

I showed her the bundle of love letters and cards from Saima stamped with kisses and hearts including recent ones.

I informed her it was not an engagement that Uncle could cancel. It was a conditional marriage which only I could cancel through divorce and I had no such intentions.

Moreover, the Condition had not expired. I still had till the end of August.

My brothers had not given her these facts.

She decided to stay till the end of that august month.

This is how God showed me the solution to that impossible condition: He demonstrated it to me.

In August, I foolishly told my class friends about chapter 61 of Koran and my acceptance of Christianity.

The professor of Software Engineering gave us an assignment of making presentations. He asked us to join groups of at least 3 and each group was to choose a subject approved by the professor.

“Once approved, there’ll be no revisions of presentation time nor the subject,” he elaborated. “Any failure will result in an F”.

Mansoor and his friend approached me and asked me to deliver the presentation and field the questions while they’d prepare the material.

I decided to trust them.

We agreed on a presentation on recently-released Oracle 9i and the professor assigned us a date.

On the day of presentation, they surprised me by informing me that they had not prepared a thing and the professor was their neighbor.

So it was all a planned conspiracy that was well thought out and designed to teach a fool it’s not good to be a Christian among Muslims.

I only had an hour to do something.

I went to the library but they had no recent material on any subject at all.

Mansoor followed me closely everywhere to keep an eye on me.

I spent some time reading stuff in the library then I went out and sat on the benches in front of the Faculty of Computer Sciences.

Mansoor and his friend joined me while I chatted with Imran, a friend, about kittens that were playing there.

Suddenly, I looked at my watch and alerted Mansoor. It was 8:30pm — closing time.

He immediately rushed in the class and I followed him but the professor asked him to shut up and sit down.

The previous presentation was so long & interesting that it ran till end of class time. The students won’t let the professor end it.

Since it was the professor who had failed to call me to hold the presentation, it was his fault. He fell prey to his own strict condition of no second chances and I received full marks without actually making any presentation.

He offered to renovate our late mom’s house, some 3 km farther from my university.

That meant changing 3 busses instead of two.

But on second day, he claimed losing its keys and offered instead to buy me the Rs700,000 house near Abid’s house despite my objection to live near Abid.

But that house had already been sold.

He then offered to give me a room on rent nearby but I refused.

“What is your desire?” He finally cared to ask.

I showed him an apartment that belonged to Aunt Qudsia’s late husband, uncle Akhlaq. It was nearby my university.

Since my arrival to Pakistan in early 1998, Aunt Qudsia had given me its keys to repair its broken lock and keep it clean.

I asked him to talk to Aunt Qudsia to sell me that Rs250,000 apartment.

He kept negotiating its price until it reached Rs375,000. He then bought some cheap furniture and got one room furnished along with a computer.

He promised to send me Rs375,000 as soon as he returned to Saudi Arabia.

We then went to meet Abid.

Hamid told me NRL had demoted Abid to humiliate him and had put him on-call but won’t give him enough time to sleep.

I informed Abid that NRL actually wanted him to resign and I advised him not to but he insisted.

So I wrote him a simple resignation letter citing personal troubles. They dropped all charges, stopped humiliating him and released him with all dues cleared.

As soon as Hamid went back to Saudi Arabia, I moved into “Casa Nishani”, uncle Akhlaq’s apartment, which means “the House of the Sign of God.”

I used to call Saima Wada (The Promise) but now I started calling her Nishani (sign or the fulfilment of The Promise).

In late May, at the start of my summer vacations, I went out and bought furniture for the rest of the apartment as well as necessary electrical appliances and updated my relatives of my news.

After a week, Aunt Qudsia showed up. I asked her to wash her feet (hands) while I went out and bought Biryani, a delicious chicken rice dish.

After the lunch, she tried to come to the point but the angel of God tried to kill her and a great fear fell upon her.

She asked me to enquire from God why her heart was giving her trouble.

I told her her evil intentions were putting her at risk.

She then changed her evil plans and asked me nicely about my payment plans for the apartment.

I told her she still had not shown me the ownership documents. She could choose Rs375,000 cash or Rs600,000 paid in 60 equal installments.

She chose Rs600,000 and went away.

I informed my brothers of the new deal.

After a while, I received a call from Hamid insisting me to see the ownership documents before paying a single penny and advised me to request Aunt Qudsia to give me a letter authorizing me to install a land line as my cellular phone was very noisy.

On the other hand, he informed Aunt Qudsia of my expected visit and advised her not to give me any letter unless I paid Rs600,000 in cash first.

My stupid briefcase had a stuck lock. I got it repaired and went to nearby branch of MCB and asked them to give me traveller checks in lieue of $2500 cash.

They said they had no traveller checks and as soon as I went out, they called a cellular number.

Two thugs followed me on a bike, asked the rickshaw driver to stop and robbed me off of my money.

When I went to Aunt Qudsia, she demanded payment of Rs600,000 in cash and refused to show me the papers or even their copies.

I told her she couldn’t change the deal now. It’s either Rs600,000 in installments or nothing unless I consent.

She told me she could get me thrown out of Casa Nishani along with my stuff in a matter of two days.

I challenged her to do that because I no longer intended to pay a penny nor vacate the apartment, either.

Now this is how God fulfilled the promise of marrying me to Saima without actually fulfilling the Condition.

I went and sat beside Monia and she started examining me with her eyes from top to bottom.

She was so interested, looking at me so intently that I, even I, blushed. I just couldn’t believe such a beautiful, cute angel was so interested in me.

My right ear was on fire and I started wetting my fingers in the glass of water and soaking my burning ear while trying to focus on Monia’s aunt who was basically repeating what Omar had already explained.

She was stealing looks at her niece whose open interest in me was making her blush and want to laugh. After a while, she could hold herself no more.

“I guess I don’t need to tell you to take good care of Monia. No one will take better care of her than you,” said the aunt and ran away, still trying to hold her laughs.

Everyone was shocked and caught off-guard by the intense love-from-first-sight between two lovers who didn’t feel ashamed showing their affection off without regard to the on-lookers.

As soon as the aunt left, I carried Monia in my arms and laid her on the large coach in front of the TV. I brought my blanket and covered her with it.

I sat at her head, put her head in my laps and at each commercial break, I’d pull the blanket over us and start kissing her.

At night, she told me she didn’t like excessive sex and asked me to get lost and leave her alone.

I had to ask Omar for some help explaining matters of men. She loved me so much that she didn’t mind and let me sleep with her.

After mating, she held me so tight to her, I feared getting choked but that night proved my best night ever.

Omar had been watching our love story. He had a secret reason to dislike Monia.

In the morning, her aunt asked me if I was in love with Monia but I blushed and denied knowing anything.

After the second night, in the morning, Monia told me she was going to attend a wedding party and return after ten days or more.

I told her I’d tour Europe and come back flying.

I walked with her till the crossing and asked her to lip-kiss me in public.

We kissed goodbye.

That night, Omar brought me a fair, tall and beautiful girl to sleep with. He said it was wise to taste around before making a final decision and I slept with Latifa.

Then we headed to Casablanca through Khunefra. It was afternoon and we could continue our journey but Omar found two girls who happened to pass by our table.

They immediately agreed to spend a night with us. The little girl with them also wanted sex but her sister told her she was too young and sent her home.

He then booked a cab who took us to a house and we booked a room.

The landlady refused the outside girls and Omar sent them away.

Let me inform you that I know all the dialects of Arabic except for the Moroccan.

After Omar sent away the two girls, he talked with the landlady and told me of her desire to sleep with me.

“Tell her I’m sick and need rest.”

He talked with her a little more and soon they were fighting over something.

I asked Omar what was wrong.

“She doesn’t believe you’re sick or tired and insists on sleeping with you”.

That felt weird.

“Why me? Why doesn’t she sleep with you? If it’s money she seeks, tell her I’ll pay but not sleep.”

That for some reason infuriated her and they again started shouting at each other.

“What are you fighting over now?” I was at a loss to understand.

“She says you can’t book a room without also sleeping with her; this is not a game”!

I stood up and carried my bag, “In that case, I choose to leave.” But the beautiful lady in her 30s stood in my way.

“She says you can’t leave now.” Explained Omar.

“Says who?” Now I was getting pissed off.

I’m a worshiper of God & women and I preach the same to the world. But God comes first and I don’t mind standing up to a woman bully.

“Tell her to move aside or else” I was ready for a fight.

After seeing me eye to eye for a while, she stepped aside, uttering something from her teeth.

As soon as we were out, Omar told me she had some gang members down the street and we were going to deal with them.

We weren’t armed, not even a knife.

But I turned and looked at Omar — who was pale as ghost — in the eye and said “I don’t rape nor accept to be raped”.

I then walked with confidence while Omar kept looking back and trying to walk as soon he could.

Once we reached the road safe & sound, he took a sigh of relief and after a while, on our way to Bani Malal, he was laughing at that freaky lady who was about to kill for a night with a foreigner.

Can you tell why she refused to believe that I couldn’t sleep with her?